


'Til death do us apart

by Elisexyz



Series: Whumptober 2019 (Timeless) [3]
Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: (but. like. altered timeline pre-canon.), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Pre-Canon, Rittenhouse Agent Jessica Logan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-16 21:41:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21043214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisexyz/pseuds/Elisexyz
Summary: “I thought I’d lost you,” he says, quiet and shaky, fresh tears coming to replace those he washed away.Guilt twists her stomach. “I’m sorry,” she can only choke out.Wyatt shrugs, offering a brisk smile. “It’s not your fault.”It is, but he wouldn’t know that, would he? She sincerely hopes that he somehow never will.





	'Til death do us apart

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the "Tear-stained" prompt in the Whumptober 2019 event (I have officially given up on posting these on time LOL).  
  
AU to the the altered pre-canon timeline, so in which Jessica lives but she works for Rittenhouse. She gets shot for job-related reasons and scares the shit out of poor Wyatt.

There’s an unusual smell prickling at Jessica’s nose.

She squeezes her eyes, realizing a moment too late that it’s flowers, though she wouldn’t be able to tell what kind, and there is a steady beeping sound coming from her left.

Her eyes shoot open to meet an uncomfortably white ceiling, and she thinks she should know why she’s _there_, but—

She curls her toes, perhaps stupidly so, and they still work. Good.

_Hospital_, her brain quickly shouts in alarm. Something in her pushes to be more alert, but her mind is slow on the uptake and she only manages to unsettle the machine monitoring her heart.

_Gun_, she remembers, just as she starts looking around, trying to see if there is something to help her face a dangerous situation, only for her eyes to land on Wyatt. He is sitting on the edge of a chair, slumped on her bed and sleeping with a slight frown on his face. She notices the tear stains on the sheets, next to his cheek, and something in her settles, a smile bubbling at her lips.

She runs her fingers through his hair, joy quickly breaking through everything else, because for all that their marriage can sometimes be a mess these days, when he stays home too long, she rarely feels anything but relief and happiness at welcoming him back.

Last she checked, Wyatt was still overseas.

He wakes up soon after she has started touching him, shooting up so fast that she’s a little startled. He looks around with huge, red-rimmed eyes, which soon land on her, taking a few moments to focus.

“Jess!” he all but yells then, breaking into a vibrant smile of relief as he moves back to the edge of the chair and scrambles to clasp her hand into both of his. “_Jess_—” he repeats, his voice quivering a little around the edges, his hands shaking. “God, I was so worried—” he mutters, so quick that she isn’t even positive she understood it right, as he moves closer, hesitating for a moment with one hand hovering nearby her shoulder before he settles on removing some hair from her face. “How are you feeling?”

“Groggy,” she says, without much thinking.

He snorts, his shoulders shaking as he bows his head for a moment, grinning slightly. “Yeah, I guess that’s fair,” he replies, gently.

Jessica squints at him, at the lines of exhaustion on his face, the mess that is his hair and the smell of someone that hasn’t even _thought_ about showering for a little too long—he is still wearing his uniform, at least the wrinkled undershirt and the pants, his tags still around his neck. She wonders what exactly happened.

The answer comes back in bits and pieces that hit her all too quickly.

She remembers Rittenhouse gave her a target, someone that she was supposed to kill as she sometimes does when Wyatt is overseas and he can’t question her late hours. She missed. The guy got away. He later showed up at the bar, started shooting around like mad.

The memory of the pain makes her wince.

Wyatt, of course, notices.

“Oh, sorry, sorry,” he quickly says, assuming to have done something to hurt her and pulling away to settle back on his initial position, barely on the chair, leaning on her bed and squeezing her hand.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she points out, no accusation in her voice. She is actually pretty delighted that he is. It makes her feel warm.

“I flew back immediately.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and maybe it is. It’s just that, sometimes, between secrets and distances and fights, it gets a little too easy to forget just how fiercely he loves her. She has to wonder if he even asked for a leave through proper channels or if he just took his things and boarded on the first plane back home.

Wyatt presses his lips together, and she can clearly see his eyes swelling up with tears, the corners of his mouth trembling as he promptly looks down.

“Wyatt?” she calls out, a little unsure, mostly out of guilt at knowing that she is the reason for his pain.

(It will hardly be the last time, but she pushes away the grim thought.)

She squeezes his hand tighter, and he glances at her, quickly wiping his eyes with his sleeve before taking a deep breath. If he hoped to steady himself enough that his voice wouldn’t crack, he must be very disappointed. “I thought I’d lost you,” he says, quiet and shaky, fresh tears coming to replace those he washed away.

Guilt twists her stomach. “I’m sorry,” she can only choke out.

Wyatt shrugs, offering a brisk smile. “It’s not your fault.”

It is, but he wouldn’t know that, would he? She sincerely hopes that he somehow never will.

“I hope they’ll catch the bastard,” he mutters, rage twisting his features for a moment.

“Was anyone else hurt?” she asks, the thought hitting her out of the blue. She was alone on that particular shift, but there were many clients at the bar, some regulars too, and—she’s pretty sure she remembers Anne falling before her. She’s a mother of two, coming up for a drink every Thursday night, her scheduled me-time.

She doesn’t want to believe that she died because of her stupid mistake. Because she missed a target and didn’t decide to keep a gun behind the counter.

“Not this badly,” Wyatt is quick to chase away her fears, offering a strained smile as he rubs his thumb against the back of her hand. “Everyone is going to be fine.”

Jessica nods, a small smile of relief twisting her lips. Wyatt still looks grim, a shadow passing on his face as his eyes drift to the ground, more or less like every time something he desperately doesn’t want to think about comes back to haunt him.

“Me included,” Jessica reminds him then, mostly to get him out of his head.

Wyatt looks up to her, a little startled, then he breaks into a tender smile. “Yeah,” he says, softly. “You included.”

He brings her hand to his mouth, laying a kiss on it, and she can read it in his eyes, the _I don’t know what I’d do without you_.

She smiles, a little strained but not any less sincere, squeezing his fingers as she silently vows for the second time _‘til death do us apart_. Anything else, she will do her best to see them through, one way or the other.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates comments, including: 
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 
> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason, feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!


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